


Night

by Sitrus



Series: arcana stuff [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: ANYHOW, Diarrhea, Emetophilia, Gen, Scat, Sickfic, Vomiting, as for the tag comment I needed to first post this and then add tags through the edit tags function, but only in the second chapter, could be understood as asra/muriel but can also be read as gen, emeto, idk adding tags is hard on mobile because it doesn't allow freeform the same way it does in pc : /, otherwise it wouldn't add them, the first one is just vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24336901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sitrus/pseuds/Sitrus
Summary: Asra stays at Muriel's hut for a night on his way back from his travels. Unfortunately he wakes up not feeling very well.
Series: arcana stuff [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756987
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

Asra wakes up in the middle of the night feeling absolutely terrible. The nausea hits him before he’s even fully awake and he feels like he’s been fully submerged in cool liquid that makes his skin prickle and whole body tremble. He doesn’t want to move but he doesn’t want to stay still either. He needs to get up, he needs to go outside and have a few lung fulls of fresh forest air, and if that doesn’t help at least he wouldn’t be vomiting all over Muriel’s hut. The darkness inside makes his head swim and he would conjure up some light if he dared to move but moving is hardly an option. Asra's certain he’ll be vomiting the moment he tries to voluntarily move a single muscle. At least the air is pleasantly cool. He tries to focus on that even as his mouth is filling with saliva and the prickling sensation moves to his jaw and cheeks and centres there, his throat starts feeling tight…

There’s shuffling beside him and Asra can’t decide if it a welcome distraction or too much additional sensory information to process. He’s vaguely aware that Muriel’s awaken and that he’s moving, looking at him, and he hears the rumble of his voice ask a question. Asra nods, fairly certain Muriel wants to know if he’s not feeling good but the nausea is too overwhelming to pay attention to anything else or to keep his thoughts together for long enough to keep Muriel’s words in mind for long.

The next moment Muriel asks him to sit up but doesn’t wait for him to react. Muriel helps him up and places a bucket in his lap, and Asra feels like he might cry in relief. He doesn’t need to make a decision one way or another, he doesn’t need to pre-emptively tell if the nausea is going to lead to something; as inevitable as it may seem, he doesn’t want to vomit. He’d prefer to sleep it off because it’s less of a hassle, and deciding that he’s reached a point where there’s no avoiding the inevitable and that he has to make a run for something reasonable to vomit into is always the hardest part. With the bucket in front of him and with Muriel’s steady hand on his back, he doesn’t need to worry about that. He can just wait and see what happens.

It takes him a moment longer to accept his fate, but the moment he does, he’s gagging over the bucket. The first two gags bring nothing up but once he’s started he can’t stop.The pace of the heaves keeps picking up as he brings up more food, and for a moment he can hardly breath in between them. He feels terribly nauseous even after his stomach is empty and he keeps dry heaving until he can finally make it stop. He pushes gently at the bucket and Muriel moves it away. 

"Don't put it far", Asra whispers then swallows to keep the nausea at bay. He lies down, drapes one arm over his head and takes deep, careful breaths.The nausea slowly grows less prominent and eventually seems to pass, but even then Asra feels shaky and vaguely sick. His stomach feels heavy and unsettled, his throat is burning from the stomach fluids and he's sure the nausea will return sooner or later. 

Asra hardly notices it when Muriel leaves his side and then returns. 

"You should drink", Muriel says and Asra takes a peek from under his arm to see Muriel holding a cup. He's put the fire on or lit a lantern, judging by the light softly illuminating his frame. Asra assumes the cup holds water, and he feels good enough to be willing to give it a try.

He could sit up on his own but resisting Muriel when he wants to help would be more trouble than it’s worth. At least Muriel doesn’t insist on supporting him while he’s already sitting up nor does he assume Asra couldn’t drink on his own, even as Asra’s hands tremble when he brings the cup to his lips. Taking a sip of the water feels refreshing - Asra had hardly been aware of how dry his mouth was until he started drinking - and getting to rinse out the last of the stomach fluids from his mouth and throat is so nice Asra forgets to be careful.

Either he drinks too much or too fast or too much too fast, but it's coming up nearly as fast as it went down. Asra's lucky Muriel knew to anticipate it because the bucket is already in front of him. With nothing but the water in his stomach he's quickly done, but a nearly empty stomach also makes the process all the more uncomfortable, even a little painful. 

"Careful", Muriel says as he hands the cup back to Asra. Asra rinses his mouth and spits the water into the bucket before taking a tiny sip. He hardly feels like giving it a another try but his mouth is dry and Muriel seems insistent. Tiny sip after tiny sip Asra manages to drink a little but only a little; it may be just water but it’s definitely making the lingering queasiness worse. He’ll have to drink more later. 

Asra sets the cup down on the floor and stretches out on the furs again. Even with the water still trying to settle in his stomach, he feels less nauseous than before and he’s no longer shaking. The exhaustion is settling in and if it wasn’t for Muriel still hovering by his side, he would be falling asleep.

“Go back to sleep”, Asra tells Muriel. Muriel’s fists clench and he looks even more uncertain than before. Asra would rather not speak but he also can’t relax if Muriel doesn’t, so he tries again: “I’m fine. Just tired now.”

Asra places a hopefully reassuring hand on Muriel’s leg. Muriel is still hesitant but circles around Asra to lie down next to him on the furs. Asra tries to ignore the nervous energy radiating from Muriel and the feeling of Muriel's eyes nailed on him. Eventually he manages to drift off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise, there's more  
> feat. scat  
> yey  
> I should have edited this but lmao that didn't happen

Asra's sleep is restless, and when he wakes up again he could swear he was half awake the whole time. Even while sleeping, he could feel his stomach hurting, yet he only wakes up seconds before vomiting. He quickly rolls over to his stomach, off of the furs on the floor, and pushes himself up enough to vomit into the bucket from before. What ever fluids had gathered in his stomach are quickly out but the nausea remains overwhelming.

Asra scrambles up to a sitting position and wraps his arms around his stomach. Thankfully he doesn't keep dry heaving constantly even though he feels like he still needs to purge his insides. Whatever is making him feel so sick is slithering around his stomach and making it turn and ache, and he almost wants to cry from the discomfort. He hears his stomach gurgle and grumble and the occasional cramp sends him heaving over the bucket again and spitting out saliva and stomach fluids.

His stomach gurgles again and he feels something shifting inside him. The urge to defecate hits him so fast he reacts in a panic and pulls his underpants off with some struggling, other options than shitting right there not even crossing his mind. The nausea is effectively keeping him from thinking, besides which he feels too sick to consider moving. A load of mushy feces flows out of him effortlessly and near silently, spreading out underneath him and against him. It feels disgustingly warm and soft on his skin and the smell soon hits him, mixing with the smell of vomit to form a putrid enough combination to send him gagging even if he weren’t sick. The contractions from vomiting push out another load of less mushy and more liquidy shit, followed by gas that makes the shit his sitting on splatter loudly.

When he stops gagging and spitting into the bucket, Asra realises Muriel has woken up and is sitting up on the furs and staring at him. Asra still feels so sick he’s hardly even embarrassed by the situation even though he does feel a little self conscious. But the feeling on top of his mind, though, when he sees Muriel is awake, is closer to relief than embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Muriel… I didn’t mean to... I just feel so sick”, Asra says and now he is definitely crying. Saying it outloud makes it feel all the more real, like he just became aware of just how bad he feels, and he can’t hold back the tears cascading down his cheeks. He feels so bad. So disgustingly sick and so disgustingly covered in the results of his illness. He's hurting and he's nauseous and he's gagging out yet another trickle of fluids while the now liquid shit gurgles out of him. Worst of all, even after all the vomiting and shitting he’s hardly feeling any better. The exhaustion is hitting him hard and he’s desperate to be done being sick.

Muriel moves closer and Asra looks away to avert his gaze. While he’s gagging only occasionally, the liquid shit keeps leaking out of his ass on its own accord and all he can do is let it flow. Muriel pushes the pile of furs aside to keep them away from the spreading pool of diarrhea but otherwise he doesn't seem to care about the mess. He even lays a comforting, large hand on Asra's shoulder. Asra wants to lean into his touch, to have Muriel wrap his arms around him, to be enveloped in Muriel’s familiar warmth and scent, to feel his comforting presence all around him, but can’t. Not while he’s shitting on Muriel’s floor.

"Done?" Muriel asks eventually. The diarrhea has stopped by then but Asra hasn't dared to move. He feels pretty empty though, and it doesn't seem like the shitting is about to continue, but he still pushes just to be sure. There's a small fart but nothing else seems to be coming out so he nods. 

Muriel gets up and leaves, returning shortly after with two washing basins and a cloth for each. Asra watches as he sets them down by the nearest wall.

“You should clean up”, Muriel says as he returns to Asra’s side. He vaguely gestures towards the basins and adds something about feeling better, but he’s not articulating that last addition clearly enough for Asra catch what he says. Asra is eager to wash off the shit though so he gets up, careful not to get any of it on the soles of his feet.

“I uhh… I’ll clean the mess in a while”, Asra says. He doesn’t want to speak in fear of it reigniting the nausea again, but seeing his own shit spread on the floor like that is definitely embarrassing. He also doesn’t want to expend any energy into cleaning the floor but he can’t possibly let it wait until he feels better and he definitely doesn’t want to ask Muriel to clean it for him. Muriel doesn’t say anything in response so Asra assumes they’ve reached an agreement. He awkwardly makes his way across the floor to where the basins are, doing his best not to dribble shit everywhere, and starts cleaning himself in one of the basins.

Asra takes his time washing off the shit. Even when he’s done he still feels disgusting and like his ass, legs and now hands as well are covered in feces. There are no visible traces of it anywhere he can see, though, so it has to do. To his embarrassment, Muriel has cleaned up the floor while he wasn’t paying attention. Asra didn’t realise he’d taken long enough for Muriel to have the time to handle that. And not only is the floor clean and furrs back in place, there’s a gently steaming mug of something besides the furs, and Muriel has found all sorts of pieces of cloth to cover the bunk with. Asra wants to tell Muriel how he shouldn’t have bothered and how Asra could easily have handled it himself, but the sight of the furs and no mess to clean up makes the exhaustion hit him full force. There are definitely tears in his eyes again, this time from the sheer relief of being able to just curl up on the furs and try to find some peace from his stomach.

“Drink. It’ll help”, Muriel says as Asra sits down. He’s picked up the mug and is offering it to Asra. If it wasn’t for the familiar smell of herbs rising from it with the steam, and the knowledge that brings of the mug’s contents, Asra might have tried to decline but the scent alone is giving him some hope of relief. He takes small sips at first, but the more of it he drinks, the more he feels he can drink. When the mug is empty, he sets it on the floor and lies down, focusing on the small relief it has offered him. He knows it’ll help more as more time passes, even if it’s not a miracle cure that will take away the sickness completely.

Asra pulls a blanket over himself and curls up, closing his eyes. He hears Muriel get back on the furs next to him as well, and the two of them lie in silence for several minutes. Eventually there’s shuffling beside him and soon he can feel Muriel’s eyes on him.

“Don’t worry about mess”, Muriel’s says. “You aren’t well.”

Asra’s cheeks heat up and he wants to argue, if only because he’s embarrassed about the whole situation, but, again, the relief is overpowering. 

“Thank you”, Asra whispers. He moves himself a little closer to Muriel, and when he hears or feels no objection, he settles right next to the man. Muriel even wraps an arm around him completely unprompted. The contact is as comforting as Asra hoped it would be, and it doesn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep.


End file.
